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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28061544">so big, so small</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalMercy/pseuds/WhimsicalMercy'>WhimsicalMercy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>MCYT December except it's not festive [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Death Threats, Hurt George, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Men Crying, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:20:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,642</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28061544</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalMercy/pseuds/WhimsicalMercy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Hearing Wilbur’s voice paused time for him, his whirring thoughts coming to a screeching halt as he focused on the familiar accent laced with concern. It was like hitting cool water on a humid day or opening a window when his room was too stuffy due to his computers.</p>
</blockquote>After a date gone wrong, George stumbles around in a daze. He's just a little lost and needs some help, help he's not willing to ask for. He forgets that he has people worried about him.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>GeorgeNotFound &amp; Wilbur Soot, GeorgeNotFound/Wilbur Soot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>MCYT December except it's not festive [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>327</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>so big, so small</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Post 2 of today and it's day 12. The prompt was "Hurt/Comfort + Assault". I think this is probably the darkest thing I've written so far and that's with a good few of my last few fics having murder in them or mentioning murder. It's a prompt that hits a little close and I hope I did it justice. </p>
<p>TW: Heavily implied rape/non-consensual sex (Specifically non-consensual oral is implied the most) and there is a death threat in this work. This work is not meant to downplay or romanticize these sorts of situations and I hope it doesn't come off as such. If you or someone you know has been hurt, please seek help, either professional help from mental health care workers or the police, or confide in someone you trust. Know that you're not alone.</p>
<p>All characters used in this are based purely on their fictional personas. If any of the creators decide they are not comfortable with fanworks, this work will be taken down immediately to respect their wishes. I also ask that this work is not linked anywhere or intentionally shared with any of the creators mentioned.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>George wasn’t quite sure where he was going. He just was stumbling around, feeling out of it. Everything aches, everything hurts. He could feel the bruises forming along his hips and legs, along the inside of his knees ached something fierce. There were scratches along his back, ones irritated simply by the shirt on his back. He wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings, too zoned out to notice the little things. The nasty voice in the back of his mind told him that’s why what happened to him happened. He was too absentminded, too preoccupied. </p>
<p>He nearly trips over a crack in the sidewalk and it takes everything in him not to just collapse on the sidewalk. Or vomit. Every step made him feel sicker, but he wasn’t sure if it was truly nausea or if it was just disgust. He felt filthy right now like he had been thrown into a gutter and forced to crawl out. He was glad that the street was empty, but still well lit. At least if something else happened, he wouldn’t be in the dark. He didn’t really look at the street signs, too lost in his mind, but he did blink when he felt his phone insistently buzzing. Whoever it was, really wanted to get a hold of him. He couldn’t see why, he wasn’t important enough for anyone to be worried about.</p>
<p>He didn’t even look at the ID, just answered and held the device up to his ear. “Hullo?” His voice was so fucking hoarse, it was sad. He didn’t even try to make it sound different either.  He doubted he could, his vocal cords raw and aching. He swallowed and his throat burned at the feeling, pulling a grimace from him. </p>
<p>“George? George, you there?” Oh. He looked down at the caller ID and noticed a selfie he had taken with Wilbur with the name written across the top of the screen. Wilbur had called him. It was nearly 11, so he wasn’t shocked that Wilbur was up, he was just shocked the other was calling at this time. By now, Wilbur was usually taking some time to calm down and destress from the day. He hummed in response to the question, still staggering down the random street he found himself on.</p>
<p>“George? Hey?” Wilbur asked again and he went to speak, his voice crackling pathetically when he tried. He coughed into his arm and cleared his throat, trying to stop the throbbing in his throat. “You there? If you can’t talk that’s fine.” He made a soft noise, as loudly as he could. Hearing Wilbur’s voice paused time for him, his whirring thoughts coming to a screeching halt as he focused on the familiar accent laced with concern. It was like hitting cool water on a humid day or opening a window when his room was too stuffy due to his computers.</p>
<p>Wilbur took his noise as a cue to keep talking. “Hey, Dream and SapNap said they didn’t hear from you and you aren’t answering anyone’s messages. Are you okay?” He sounded so worried and the guilt nearly made him cry. He didn’t need to be worrying his friends, he couldn’t be. He just wasn’t all the time and effort. He made another choked noise, stopping to lean against a street sign. “George….?” Wilbur asked, sounding gentle. It made the situation worse. He didn’t deserve this kindness, not with how dirty he was. </p>
<p>God was he filthy now, he could still feel sweat sticking to his back, his abs, his thighs. He could feel warm breaths against his neck and saliva against his collar. He clapped a hand over his mouth to stop from making a pitiful noise. “George, hey. Where… where are you?” came the next whisper. He blinked a few times and made a confused noise. Wilbur sounded firm in his next statement and it made his shoulders quake. “I want to come and get you if that’s okay. Please let me.” George froze as the desperation in his friend’s voice, Wilbur’s voice twinged and higher pitched.</p>
<p>He licked his lips and tried to force the words out before he pulled his phone away from his ear. Wilbur asked a question he couldn’t hear and it took a moment before his shaky fingers got him to share his location with the other man. He put the phone back up to his ear and Wilbur made a noise of understanding. “Okay- okay. I’m heading out now. Stay on the phone with me? It’s late, I don’t want you getting hurt.” There was shuffling on the other end of the line but George let out a weak laugh at the irony of the statement. </p>
<p>They didn’t talk after that, but George could hear Wilbur driving and sometimes swearing, irritated at people George couldn’t see. He couldn’t stop the thoughts that Wilbur was angry at him and it made him slowly sit on the curb, shivering in the cool air. Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen. It was near twenty when a car pulled up and parked. The driver's side opened and a familiar tall figure hurried over to him. He didn’t fully register it until Wilbur was looking down on him. He watched as Wilbur pulled off the jacket he was wearing and held it out.</p>
<p>He furrowed his brows, confused, and Wilbur frowned. “You’re trembling. You don’t have to take it, but..” Oh. George looked down at his hands. Sure enough, he was shaking. He reached up and carefully grasped the heavy fabric, nearly dropping it. He slung it over his shoulders but hesitated at the hand Wilbur held out. He paused before he let Wilbur take his hand. He tried not to think about how warm Wilbur was compared to him. He wasn’t sure if that was actually the case or if the pit in his stomach was just freezing him.</p>
<p>Getting into the car was done in a similar daze and it took him a minute to get the buckle into the slot. He finally relaxed into the seats of Wilbur’s car, the tension leaving his muscles at the warm air and familiar smell. He let out a shaky breath and clenched his jaw, the tears finally welling up. Everything hurt. It hurt so bad. He clamped a hand over his mouth as sobs shook his shoulders and he could feel Wilbur’s gaze burn into him.</p>
<p>He looked up, whimpering. “I… I had a date..” He croaked, hand going from his mouth to his throat. “I… I didn’t have a good time..” They got down another street before the words sunk in. He watched as Wilbur’s eyes grew wide, face soaked in the light George knew was red even though he couldn’t see it. The air in the car was heavy and he didn’t know what to say after that, curling up in the passenger seat. They made a left then a right turn, the turn signal making a soft clicking noise.</p>
<p>Finally, Wilbur spoke. “Is it okay that I bring you back to my apartment? I… I don’t like the idea of you being alone at your place… But if you want to go back, I’ll let you.” He seemed embarrassed to ask and George didn’t like the idea of Wilbur walking on eggshells around him. Part of him hesitated, wanting to hide away and not have to worry Wilbur with his problems. Another part said that Wilbur would hurt him too.</p>
<p>The part that won was the one wrapped up in Wilbur’s warm jacket and the one that noticed that Wilbur was in his pjs, not even changing to come and save him. He slowly nodded, following it with a quiet, “Yeah.” As if that were the magic word, Wilbur let out a breath. He looked over and smiled softly at George, the smaller man relaxing more just from his friend’s presence. The car went quiet again save for the sound of the turn signal and the heat, neither knowing what to say or do.</p>
<p>If there was anything to be said. George didn’t know, he didn’t know anything anymore. All he knew was that he trusted Wilbur, that he knew for a fact Wilbur wouldn’t hurt him, wouldn’t try to do anything. He was reassured with the fact that he knew Wilbur would protect him. God, he hated having to lean so heavily on someone, he was a grown man, he should take care of himself. He would do that tomorrow, for now, he would let Wilbur take care of him. Wilbur always did, it seemed.</p>
<p>He jolted out of his daze when Wilbur parked his car in front of his apartment building, in the designated spot. He followed the taller man up, close but not touching. When they stepped inside, it was like the bones in his body gave up. He let himself slump into Wilbur’s arms, shaking and blubbering. All Wilbur did was slide to the ground, back against the door, and let him cry. He was gentle, running his fingers up and down his back, murmuring gentle words.</p>
<p>By the time he was cried out, it had hit 1 am and he was parched. Instead, he simply sniffled and whispered, “He has a video…”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>George looked up, tears still leaking from the corners of his eyes. Wilbur hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over George’s cheek. Giving him the chance to pull back or say no. He didn’t. He leaned in and let Wilbur’s thumb wipe away the tears. “He took a video. He has a video of me. He could post it.” He admitted, remembering the flash from a phone camera, the leering above him. </p>
<p>Wilbur swallowed tightly before taking a shaky breath. “Okay... It’s okay. We’ll figure something out tomorrow. Do you... Do you want a shower?” George nodded and Wilbur was immediately standing up, holding him close still. They managed to get to the bathroom before he was asked to wait outside. He didn’t say no, he didn’t think he could. He’d do anything for George, especially in the current time. He sat until the water began running then he stood to grab some clothes. He didn’t have any clothes that would fit George, but he managed to find his smallest shirt and sweats before taking up the spot on the floor outside the bathroom.</p>
<p>He knocked a few times and told George that he had clothes for him when he was ready, but to take his time. Next Wilbur pulled out his phone. He shot Dream and Sap a message, not revealing anything. He just said that he got a hold of George and would tell him to call them when he could. In his state, Wilbur wasn’t sure when that would be. He hoped soon, but he didn’t know how this would go. George could completely retreat.</p>
<p>There was a moment of reluctance as his thumb hovered over a username. He leaned his head against the wood of the door, listened, and then took a deep breath.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>WilburSoot</strong><br/>
hey<br/>
can I get some serious advice? Idk what to do rn..
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
<strong>Philza</strong><br/>
Of course, you okay?<br/>
Need to call?
</em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>WilburSoot</strong><br/>
no don’t call<br/>
I can’t rn and I can’t explain<br/>
I’m okay tho
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>Philza</strong><br/>
Okay what’s the matter then?
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>WilburSoot</strong><br/>
so a friend of mine was just really hurt and idk what to do<br/>
or how to make them feel safe again<br/>
I’m scared I’m gonna mess up and they’ll just… leave.
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>Philza</strong><br/>
Will, are you okay?<br/>
Seriously, do you need me to come be with you?
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
<strong>WilburSoot</strong><br/>
NO<br/>
Nonono I’m okay I promise this isn’t about me please don’t call
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>Philza</strong><br/>
Okay.. um... I would say just make sure to talk to them and try to get them to tell you what they need. If they need space, you need to give them that. If you think they’re pulling back or are lost in their own thoughts, try to make sure they’re okay without getting in their space. Does that help?<br/>
Idk what to do in those sorts of situations too, Will.
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>WilburSoot</strong><br/>
yeah that helped<br/>
thanks sorry to scare you<br/>
I’ll explain when I can
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>Philza</strong><br/>
Of course mate.<br/>
If you beat someone up and get caught, text me and I’ll bail you out.</em>
  
  
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
 Wilbur let out a little laugh, feeling the sinking in his chest lighten. He was so glad Phil easily understood this, that he didn’t ask too many questions. He knew he would have to explain a bit, leaving George’s name out. Wilbur remembered what George had said, that this guy he went on a date with had a video. Anger and protectiveness flared in him. It pissed him off that someone had even considered treating George unkindly.
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
It wasn’t just Wilbur’s crush talking; George was just a good person and friend. He worked hard to please people and worked hard to make himself happy. He was kind and cared so much about everything. He loved his friends, even if he was embarrassed. George was just so kind to everything that he couldn’t even fathom the idea of hurting him. It was just impossible in Wilbur’s mind. It was like crushing flowers for no reason other than because you wanted to and yet someone had. Someone had put their mitts all over George and crushed him inside.
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
He stared at Phil’s last message.
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>WilburSoot</strong><br/>
I may take you up on that offer, Phil.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
He stopped messaging Phil as the door opened. He got George settled into his bed before grabbing his pillows and blankets to sleep on the floor between his friend and the door. What he didn’t expect was for George to grab his arm and ask for him to stay in the bed. He was careful when lying down, not wanting to touch George more than the other man wanted. He did, however, commandeer the left side of the bed; the one closest to the door. He also didn’t expect George to press close, to hide against his chest. The man was buried under all the blankets and Wilbur was careful to not disturb the cocoon George had made for himself.
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
The next morning, George woke up with Wilbur curled against him, the taller boy’s sheets around him. He checked his phone and noticed that a certain number had been blocked, but it had been messaged last night around 3 am. He frowned, knowing he had been asleep. He shot a glance at Wilbur and checked the messages. The video that had been sent first was The Video, one that nearly had him vomiting into Wilbur’s trash can. The next video was one he had apparently sent. He frowned deeper, hitting play. 
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
It was a black video. Wilbur’s voice was quiet, barely audible and that was most likely because he was trying not to wake George up. “Hello,” Video Wilbur said, “You do not know me and I do not want to know you. I do not care who you are. You so much as even think about texting George or releasing that video, I will personally find you and beat you to death with my fucking guitar. Don’t text this number again.” The video cut out, nothing else to be said.
</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
<p>
George blinked down at where Wilbur was snoring into the pillow, drool falling from the corner of his lips. He bit his lip and locked his phone, settling down again. Even in that video, Wilbur wasn’t terrifying. Not to him at least. The video just proved that Wilbur wasn’t going to hurt him. He went this far to protect him, sending out threats that could get his career ended if the wrong person got it. Yet Wilbur still did it. George closed his eyes again, letting a completely different haze settle over him.</p>
<p>
  <strong></strong>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And day 12. Almost caught up. I hope I did this topic justice. I did not intend to make it seem romantic other than the mention of Wilbur's crush and I hope it doesn't come off as me making light of such a traumatic event. I also do not wish this type of event on anyone, not just including the creators.</p>
<p>Side note: Editing this with HTML was awful holy shit</p>
<p>As always, I appreciate comments and kudos so please don't be shy!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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